Green Glass, Goblin
by elspeth green
Summary: After finding a green glass pendant, Elaine is swept away into the underground, and straight into the clutches of the goblin kingwho, interestingly enough, has one like it....
1. Green Glass

Green Glass, Goblin

I do not own Jareth, or the Labyrinth, any specific goblins, OR any of the poems I may mention, unless otherwise specified. If you would like a copy of any of the poems used, email me...

Chapter One: Green Glass 

"Elaaaaaiiine."

"Please, Rhiannon." Elaine begged, falling to her knees in mock-theater fashion, clasping her hands in front of her.

"Noooo."

"Rhiannon,C'mon just this once! I want to see!" Elaine tugged on her friend's trench coat pleadingly. "Pretty, pretty please!"

"NO!" Rhiannon squealed a protest, her cerulean eyes sparking merrily. "That is sooo boring! And we only have a few days left, come on! We have to hit the good shops!"

"PLLLLEEEAAAASSSSE!

"FINE!" Rhiannon threw up her hands in mock disgust, rattling the vast amount of shopping bags that were tangled around her freckled wrists. She tossed her brilliant red hair out of her eyes and nudged Elaine towards the shop. "But be fast! And for God's sake, don't spend all your money, we still have to shop tomorrow! I don't know why you like that stuff." She added, rolling her eyes at the battered sign reading _Primrose Antiques_.

"Thank you!" Elaine squealed, bounding up the steps with irrepressible energy. Her hair, chestnut-gold and very long, bounced behind her, swinging in the slight sea breeze. "I won't be! I'll hurry! I promise!"

Elaine was, Rhiannon thought sarcastically, possibly the only person in the world who would forgo a lovely Welsh day for a dusty antique shop. But then, there you were. That was just Elaine.

Elaine entered the shop with a jangle of brassy belles. There was an old man asleep behind the counter, a grandfatherly looking figure, who didn't even bother to wake as Elaine slid in. The shop was crowded, cluttered, and dusty, as though no one had been in there for months. Old relics, trinkets and curios were piked around: gilded treasure chests, banged-up suits of armor, glimmering goblets with half-etched golden lines on them...Elaine sighed. Even in the middle of Wales, hundreds of miles from home, an antique shop could always cure her homesickness.

The shop was quiet, mostly, but a music box played in the background, slow and soft, a tune she didn't know. Elaine closed her eyes and concentrated on the music, listening, then opened them with a sigh. The tune seemed familiar, somehow, but she couldn't quite place it. She lightly picked up a few things, hearing her mother's voice in her head _"that's a cheap imitation, darling, and that vase is certainly not worth what they've got on it. Those books, though, those look like a good buy..." _

"Oh!" Elaine let out a startled cry. She clapped a hand to her mouth. In front of her stood a mirror, gilded around the edges with fantastic faces and scrolling, and her own reflection had startled her. Elaine looked at herself appraisingly, mentally taking stock, as though she was an antique her mother was cataloging. In her mind again she heard her mother...

"_Tall—maybe too tall—long hair, brownish, still a bit wet, we could refinish that—two bluish eyes, not too clear, and far too much eyeliner on—skin too white. Do you think it could tan, dear? Perhaps with a little bit of work? Mouth, nose, chin, arms, breast, narrow waist all intact—hips too wide. Far too wide, and legs not as long as I like them. Oh dear, you didn't inherit your grandmother's legs_." Elaine winced. Her mother was a wonderful woman, but not always the most tactful person in the world. Even in her mind.

"Laws!" The old man shook himself awake. "My heavens, child, you startled me!"

"I'm sorry." Elaine smiled at him, moving away from the mirror. "It's a lovely shop!" she added.

"You a yank, then?" He asked, putting a finger beside his nose.

"Yes indeed. My mother owns an antique shop there, so I thought I'd stop in."

"In the business eh?" The man yawned. "Well, look about, if you need help I'm right here."

"Thanks." Elaine moved towards the back, fingers brushing everything as she walked past. The music was fainter now, as though the music box had wound down. Elaine followed the noise, half heartedly, wondering why she cared.

When she found the box, she was mildly disappointed. The tune had been a sweet, faintly sad tune, and she had expected something slightly more ornate to go along with it. Instead, there was a carved soapstone box, white and pretty, but virtually worthless. Elaine fingered the top, then opened it.

A surge of music greeted her, not the slow, sad, soft tune she had heard, but a carnival tune, fast—but faintly bittersweet. Spinning around where the ballerina should have been was a miniature castle, black against the soapstone white, twirling lightly. Elaine sighed. _Not anything worthwhile. Just another trinket._ She shut the box, and the music stopped abruptly.

_That's funny. _

_Hmmmmm._ Elaine turned around and opened the box again, and instead of the carnival tune she had heard, the slow, faintly sweet song greeted her. _Hmmmmm_.

A glimmer of something in the corner of the box caught her eye. Something green and gold. She picked it up.

A shimmering green pendant fell from between her fingers, suspended on a simple gold chain. The music stopped abruptly, as though someone had smashed the box, but Elaine hardly noticed. She was looking at the pendant.

It was stone, completely, perfectly round, about the size of a marble, but it was different than a marble, somehow, more green, more faultless. It was almost uncanny; like a drop of sea water from the bay of Naples, blue-green, shimmering with aquamarine glint, beautiful, spinning on the end of the gold chain like the miniature castle had spun within the music box. It was like the tears of the stars, the tower of Atlantis, something otherworldly and mysterious, suspended in the air like a miniature planet suspended in space.

_Green glass, goblin. _

"Elaine!"

Elaine started with a cry. Rhiannon was behind her, grinning, hands on her hips.

"Oh Rhiannon!" Elaine tore her eyes from the pendant, "I'm—I'm sorry, I lost track of time, you see and..."

"Aw, forget it." Rhiannon smiled. "Nice necklace."

"Yes...it went to that box..." Elaine looked over to the table. "That's funny..."

"What?"

"The box—that music box—it's gone." Elaine looked around the shop. "I could have sworn it was right there."

"Well, check out and let's go!"

"I'll have this, please." Elaine set down the necklace. The man behind the counter looked at her with wide eyes behind his half-moon spectacles. "It came with a a box, but I can't find the box anywhere!" she looked around again. "It was playing music when I first came in." she said helpfully.

The old man stood up. His eyes were so wide, they looked as though they were close to falling out of his face. "T' box?" He said, in a whisper. "Y' mean t'white music box?"

"Yes! That's the one!" Elaine swatted away Rhiannon's hand as it poked her in the side.

"My God!" the old man sat down with a thump. "It's 'appened again!"

"What?" Elaine asked.

Rhiannon was looking out the window, fiddling with a toy ship, but she looked up and began to listen.

"You 'eard the music?" The man took out a bright red silk handkerchief. "You're only the third one to do so, but lord love ye, you're much less frightenin' than the other two."

"To do what?"

"To hear the music!" The old man leaned in. "That box 'as been in 'ere for years...it was even 'ere when i bought the shop! And there ain't but three people, countin' you, who've ever 'eard that music comin'--real sweet and sad, did you say t'was?"

"What do you mean?" Rhiannon stepped in. "Look, we don't believe in that sort of thing."

"But the other two..." the old man continued. "Laws, was they ever strange. The one—the woman—she was all in white, she was, even her hair, and Bob from the barber shop was there the day she was in, and he claimed he didn't never see no woman, but she asked me about the box, where I had got it or some such nonsense." the old man worked his hands. "Made me right trembly, if I do say so. And then the other one." He shuddered "aA man—but 'e was angry, that one was, and he wanted me to open the box, but i couldn't do it—it t'aint never opened before." He looked at Elaine in wonder. "What did you do t'make it open—t' other man, that dark one, 'e was right angry when i couldn't open it for him.'e looked right like a goblin he did, a real unseelie."

"I just opened it!" Elaine held out the pendant. "Can you tell me how much this is?"

"Take it!" The old man backed away. "It's bad luck, that box is, and no mistake!"

"Well, it's gone now." Rhiannon's tone was slightly acid. "and you don't have to worry about it any more—and your goblins, or unseelies, or whatever."

"Are you sure?" Elaine held up the pendant, but the old man backed away.

"Ay, ay. Take it and my blessing with it, missie. 'tis bad luck, such a goblin-trinket."

"Come on." Rhiannon dragged Elaine out of the store and into the sunlight. Elaine winced at the change of light.

"Idiot." Rhiannon twirled a finger next to her head. "Absolutely mad."

"Rhiannon...did you see the box?" Elaine was peering intently at the necklace. "I mean, didn't you hear the music?"

"What music, mate?" Rhiannon gave her an odd look. "There wasn't any music. Nor any box that I could see. Are you having me on?"

"That's strange." Elaine threw Rhiannon a look."I'm not kidding, you know."

Rhiannon shrugged. "Believe what you like, then, chum." she elbowed her. "We have to get home anyhow. My Mum'll be waiting."

"Green glass, goblin." Elaine's voice was far-off, misty. "That's a poem I heard, once. He reminded me of it, all the talk of goblins, you know. I wonder, Rhiannon, are there really goblins, somewhere?"

"What?" Rhiannon shot her a funny look. "God, Elaine, you really took him seriously. You're worse than all the old fogies. I thought Americans were supposed t be more sensible"

"Do lots of people believe in the unseelies, or whatever he called them?

"Nobody with a brain. My grandfather used to tell me tales about the kind under the hill, though."

"The king under the hill?" they were walking through the quiet streets of the little town where Rhiannon lived. Elaine loved Wales—it was the only place she had wanted to come when she graduated high school—Wales, to see her longtime pen pal, and have a little fun before her mother shipped her off to college. "Who's that?"

"Oh, some people say King Arthur." Rhiannon said "Other people say the goblins, or the unseelies. But that's all nonsense. Some people even put out bread and milk for the hobs to clean the houses." She laughed her merry laugh. "Isn't that insane? Elaine? _Elaine?"_

Elaine was silent, gazing at the pendant in her hand.

"It's pretty, isn't it?" she showed it to her friend, eyes half closed "Like something from a poem or a fairy tale or something...:"She looped it over her neck in one fluid motion.

"You and your books." Rhiannon rolled her eyes. "Honestly, dear, you ought to have been _born_ in a fairy tale."

Hey! I know it is a bit slow to begin with, but it's my very first endeavor, so be patient with me! It will pick up in the second chapter. And please, pretty please, review—an author is no good without her editors!


	2. The goblins

Chapter 2: The goble-uns'll getcha _ef you don't watch ou_t!

Elaine settled into her bed with a contented sigh. The July night outside was cool, and the sea murmured in the distance.

_I want to stay here forever._ She thought, listening to the distant rumblings of thunder _forever. This is such an adventurous place. _She opened her eyes and sighed at the darkness. Adventure, or so it seemed, was always just out of her grasp.

From the moment she learned to read, Elaine had devoured books; all kinds of books, but mostly fairy stories, fantasy, poetry. Books had been her only friends through grade school, and great friends the y had been, whispering to her at night, their stories of dragons and wizards and princesses. She lived with her mother over a dusty antique shop that did a brisk business in coins, furniture and antique leather books, but she had lived her life among the dusty columns of books in the shop, in the library, in her room. When she entered high school she made friends with surprising ease, and the summer of her junior year she had met Rhiannon, a Welsh exchange student with a flair for the dramatic and a thirst for life. Elaine felt that thirst burn in her own heart, that fire in her own veins, but it had been settled by the books she read, quieted by her contemplative and often absent-minded mother.

"Rhiannon?"

"Yeah?"

"You awake?"

"Yeah, now I am. You?"

"No, I'm talking in my sleep." Elaine smiled at the darkness. "Thank there'll be a storm?"

"Sounds like a big one." The sea was complaining on the shore, moaning in the wind, "Did you have a good time today?"

"Of course!" Elaine thought of the myriads of clothes she had bought, but her hand went around her throat, touching the cool stone around it. Even after hours of contact with her skin, the stone was still as cool and heavy as when she had first picked it up. "It was an adventure."

"You're thinking about that kooky shop guy, aren't you?" said Rhiannon said, after a moment of silence.

"Yeah."

"Ooh, goblins." Rhiannon laughed. "Scary, right? The could take you away beneath the hill because you have their magic stone!"

"Yeah." Elaine tried to sound lighthearted. "That'd be a lark, right?"

"Suuure." Rhiannon sighed. "Well, I wish the goblins _would_ come take you away. You're keeping me awake."

"Meanie!" Elaine giggled, then flopped back on her pillows, suddenly tired. "you don't think they will, do you?"

"Ohhh laws-a-mighty-yes." Rhiannon mocked, yawning. "you could have that marvelous adventure you're always talking about. Goblins." she yawned again

"Yes." Elaine felt very sleepy, suddenly. She realized the window was open, and was about to ask Rhiannon to shut it, when she heard the thunder, low, ominous.

"Goblins..." Rhiannon yawned hugely and settled down in her bed. "Goblin glass, green grass...what was that you said about goblins?"

"Green glass, goblin." Elaine's head was fuzzy warm, the feelings around her were beginning to fade. "Green glass..."

And everything went black.

"She's waking up!"

"Silly little child. So young, too. He'll be pleased."

"Go faster, you lot! He wanted her hours ago!"

"Go steady, go steady—he's been waiting near two hundred years for this, i reckon he might

wait a few more minutes..."

Elaine passed a hand over her eyes and groaned lightly.

_I wonder what kind of dream this is. _She thought, keeping her eyes closed. I_t certainly is a dark one. i seem to be floating—no, suspended on something, a litter of some sort..._

"She's right heavy!"

"That's just 'cause your arms are so scrawny, Rorybran!"

_whose voices are those?_ Elaine wondered, idly. They were strange voices, nasal and accented , some of them, high and snobbish, others.

"Well, Jareth won't have to wait long. We're well night there now, chums!"

"Jareth? He'll be in for a treat."

There was laughter all around, and it wasn't pleasant laughter. Elaine stiffened. _Perhaps it is time to wake up. After all, this might be turning into a nightmare. _She stifled her curiosity and pried her eyes open.

She was very sorry she had.

Elaine had never been one to fear things needlessly. She had never feared anything, really, except the monsters she found in her books, but even that fear was tinged with happiness, for it made the experience all the more real, somehow. But this time—this time it was real, no beating about the bush, no hot chocolate mug chattering in her hand, no mother to run to. She was rushing down a dark tunnel, the cold biting her skin, and all around her were goblins.

_Goblins_. Somehow she knew without a doubt they were goblins—some enormous, some tiny, all grotesque and deformed in the half-light, carrying torches, their dark little hands scrabbling all over the litter beneath her, their horrible little eyes lit with with the torch flames, claws, fangs, teeth, fur, scales, bristles. They were leering at her, some with three eyes, some with only one, others with none at all, only an enormous mouth set in sickly green faces.

Now, as mentioned before, Elaine was not an easily frightened young woman. She might even be considered quite brave. And Elaine did what any brave young woman would do in such a circumstance. She screamed.

"'Ey now!"

"What's that?"

Elaine leapt off the litter and felt her bare feet hit cold stone. They were in her way, clawing her,all around—she could feel their horrid, scaly arms around her ankles, their terrible, rasping claws touching her. She shook them off and began to run. The tunnel was dark and slippery, and they followed hard on her heels, but Elaine ran as she never ran before. It wasn't until a few moments later that she realized she was still screaming bloody murder, shrieking for all she was worth, as the creatures scrabbled after her, yelling things in their strange, nasal accents. She turned a corner.

Suddenly she hit a spot of slime on the floor. Her bare feet flew up in front of her, and she came crashing to the floor. She felt something small and cold and hard bounce up and hit her in the mouth, as she rolled to diffuse the impact. Luckily, there was a branching-off of the tunnel right then, and she conveniently tumbled right off the beaten path. The goblins turned the corner and rushed past her, leaving her in the dust, breathing hard and clutching at her heart.

As their noise died away in the tunnel, so did the light, and she was left in utter darkness. She felt something warm and wet in her mouth; blood. She felt around for what could have hit her, and her hands touched something cold and smooth.

_The necklace! _

Trembling, Elaine rose to her feet. She was shaking all over, and dirt and blood covered her face, she could feel the grime. She dusted off her pajamas—loose black shorts and a black camisole—and leaned against the wall, trying to catch her breath.

_Okay, Okay. This might be a dream. _She could feel her rib cage pumping up and down. The darkness around her was all-encroaching, panic inducing. She pinched herself just to make sure. She nearly yelped at the pain.

_Oh GOD. It's not a dream!_

Her mind raced wildly. _Where am I? What is going on? What happened_? She touched the necklace at her throat, heart thudding beneath it. Suddenly it grew white-hot, burning her fingers and she dropped it with a yelp that echoed all over the tunnel

_This isn't a dream. _She closed her eyes and tried to breath normally._ This isn't a dream! _

"No indeed it is not." a voice floated towards her. "It is no dream."

for some strange reason she didn't scream, though the voice startled her. She opened her eyes and saw the tunnels lit by an eerie half-glow. Standing in front of her was a man.

At least, she thought he was a man, but he looked so strange, so otherworldly, as different from any of the men she had known as peacock is different from sparrows. He was too tall, for one thing, too tall and whippet-thin, wearing a black cloak that blew around him in the wind that suddenly swept through the tunnels. He had pale golden hair that was a bird's nest, long and disarranged, that framed along, almost inhuman face with a long nose and thin lips. Above his high cheekbones, mismatched eyes glimmered, one blue, the other nearly black, tattooed outlandishly around with designs of blue and black

Elaine parted her lips, and found that she was unable to breath. She felt a curious burning on her breast, and looked down. The necklace was burning like green fire, as though the aquamarine drop of glass had suddenly been set aflame. It was hot against her bare skin. She looked over at the man again.

Around his neck, burning just as brightly as her own, was a red jewel set on a silver chain, like a single eye on his breast, glaring at her.

"Hello, Elaine." his voice was exotic, accented and cold.

Elaine did the only thing a reasonably brave girl could do in such a situation. With one last look at the burning eyes and the flaming jewel, she spun around once on her heel and fainted dead away.


	3. In which elaine meets someone

Chapter 3: In which Elaine Meets Someone Very Important

"Wake up."

Elaine stirred into consciousness. The was aware of soft, satiny sheets beneath her, of light beyond her closed eyes.

"Five more minutes." she muttered,

"Now." The voice was cold, commanding "Wake up NOW."

"What?" Elaine rubbed her eyes and drew the sheets closer. Suddenly the were ripped off her prone form, and Elaine clutched in vain for the coverlet that was no longer there. Prying open her eyes, she caught a glimpse of the man, tall and angry-looking, holding a black silk cover between thumb and forefinger, eyes ablaze. She was in a spacious room with long, narrow windows running down the walls, with nothing but he enormous black bed she was lying on in it.

"When I tell you to wake up, I expect you to wake." The voice was soft, velvet, but oh, so dangerous. Elaine looked at him in wonder, her mind going into overdrive.

_Okay. Calm down Elaine_

"Well?" The man looked at her with scorn in his eyes.

"Who the _Hell_ are you?" Elaine said, quite calmly, considering she was conversing with a goblin in her pajamas. "Where the HELL am I?"

The man looked at her, a smirk all over his handsome face.

"The underground." He said, simply.

"I—I" Elaine stammered. His eyes were hypnotizing, faintly sensual. She was suddenly very aware of her stained black camisole and pants, running a finger through her tangled mass of hair.

"But I don't want to BE in the underground!" She said, finally, gathering her thoughts together. "Who ARE you anyway? Is this an elaborate joke?" Her eyes searched the chamber frantically. "Let me out already, this is crazy!"

"Don't insult my kingdom." The man's black gloved hand swished the sheet through the air, and suddenly it was gone, vanished completely.

"I will damn well insult your idiosyncratic kingdom if I jolly well please, thanks very much!"

"Well, well, well." A new voice came out of the corner. "It looks as though our kitten has claws."

Standing in the doorway, which somehow had been invisible before now, was another man, tall and lean as the other, but with dark, fine hair drawn to the nape of his neck with a red velvet ribbon. He wore all red, and dark, floor-length cloak with a swath of white ruffles at his throat, and his face was devilishly handsome. He exchanged glances with the man, a faintly ironic tone to his otherwise refined voice.

"Kalmorn." the man was faintly annoyed. "So nice of you to stop by, and without knocking, I night add."

"But you have not introduced me, Jareth!" Kalmorn put of a hurt expression. "I do so wish to meet your lovely new..." His eyes traveled over Elaine appraisingly. "Acquisition."

"What?" Elaine felt rage, white-hot, flow through her brain. "Acquisition? What in fire do you mean, acquisition?"

"Shut up." the golden-haired man flicked a black-gloved hand at her and turned his attention back to Kalmorn. "She just woke up, must you go frightening the little thing already?"

"Excuse me!" Elaine slid off the bed and stood as tall as she could, putting her hands on her hips. "you have no right..."

"Well, the fact is, Jareth old boy, I wouldn't bear to have you keep her all to yourself."

"Oh, and you certainly are making it easier for me to do just that."

"Pardon me!" Elaine interjected, feeling less frightened than plain silly.

"Well, after all, Jareth, I'm going to have to get to know her sometime..."

"Why would I let a rapscallion like you get your claws on a poor little mortal like her?"

"Well, she is going to be your wife, isn't she?"

"WHAT?" Elaine shrieked.

"Oh dear, you haven't gotten to that yet?"

"Kalmorn." Jareth's face grew dark.

"Alright, alright." Kalmorn backed away, a smile on his face. "Goodness gracious, temper, temper, temper..."

He winked at Elaine, who returned his look with a scowl. He swirled his cloak, and Elaine gasped. Beneath his legs were a pair of goat's hooves, oiled and black. Seeing her stare, Kalmorn nodded, a smirk on his handsome face, and vanished through the door, which promptly vanished after him.

"What was he talking about? Who are you? Where am I really? Where's Rhiannon?" Elaine felt absurdly close to crying.

"One question at a time." Jareth raised a hand to her "First, let me look at you."

"WHAT?" Elaine exploded. "What do you MEAN, look at me—what are you talking about you arrogant, presumptuous, unbel—"

She felt her feet freeze to the ground. Her entire body froze on the exact position, as Jareth smirked at her, looking her up and down brazenly.

"Hmmmmm." He raised a gloved hand to her flaming cheek. "Not bad. Not bad at all. Yes indeed." His hand slid down her face and touched her white neck, smooth and soft."Very nice indeed!"

He twirled his finger around once and she felt her body spin about slowly, like a doll in a display case. He was silent.

"Well then." There was no doubting the pleasure in his voice. "you are a pretty little thing, aren't you?" His hand curled around her neck, and he drew closer to her, examining her face closely. "I could have done worse. Yes, I would have done much worse."

Elaine loosened her mouth with some difficulty. "Let me go, you arrogant, self important buffoon." She felt the blood rushing to her face. "How dare you—look—look at me that way!" she stammered, startled by the expression on his face.

He let go of her neck, eyes hardening.

"As you wish." He snapped his fingers. Immediately, Elaine melted to the floor, devoid of any support whatsoever.

"You—you..."she was at a loss for words. She could move, but only barely, with no strength to her movements. She struggled to her knees, only to fall back at his feet.

"Now, on to your next question." Jareth moved away, long legs scissoring back and forth. "I am Jareth, king of the goblins. This is my kingdom, otherwise known as the underground, or the one of the unseelie realms. And you, my dear..." a faint frown wrinkled his high brow. "what was your name again?"

"None of your business!" Elaine grabbed one of the bed posts, hauling herself up "what have you done to me?"

"Ah, tha_t is_ a good question." Jareth's mouth twisted sadistically. "A simple spell really, it simply renders your muscles useless."

"Take it off!" Elaine glared at him. "You—you—YOU!" She fumbled for a good insult.

To her surprise, Jareth began to laugh.

"Really, Elaine." He leveled his eyes on her. "I think you could call me Jareth, under the circumstances. And you are in no position to tell me what I ought to do."

"Take it off!" Elaine spoke through clenched teeth. "NOW!"

"Don't scream, precious," Jareth's said. "At least, not now. There is plenty of time for me to make you scream."

"Let me go." Elaine snarled at him.

"You didn't say please."

"Please." Elaine said, after a moment of struggling with herself.

"As you wish." Jareth snapped his fingers again. Elaine stood.

Now." she felt her face flaming before his brazen glance. "Please. I don't understand. Why am I

here? Is this a dream?"

"Certainly not." Jareth motioned to the window. "Look for yourself. This is no dream."

Elaine leapt to the window and peered out.

She was obviously in a large, black building of some sort, subconsciously she realized it was a castle. Turrets, balconies and balustrades were all around her. Strange things—goblins, she supposed—were patrolling the balconies, and all around them, sprawling everywhere, was a labyrinth.

Elaine stumbled back in shock. It was incredibly complex, terribly complicated, and strange, stone walls and walls and of hedges, partitioned and twisted and sinuous, with places wreathed in smoke and others overhung with trees. The sky—or what Elaine supposed to be the sky, was blue, but in a strange, almost artificial way, and the sun hanging in the sky was strange, red-yellow, not quite right.

"Where am I?" Elaine asked again, faintly. "Why am I here?"

"I told you. The Underground, my Kingdom." Jareth stepped up behind her "And you are here to marry me."


End file.
